


To Hell & Back

by nimiumcaelo



Series: Five Years Later [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (but just barely), 5 Years Post-Canon, Blowjobs to ABBA, Boundaries, Chilton uses a wheelchair, Disabled Character, Dogs, Dr. Frederick Chilton Lives, Established Relationship, Friends to Enemies to Lovers ????, Hannibal Lecter is DEAD (hallelujah!), Happy Ending, Healing, Healthy Relationships, M/M, NO CURRENT NON-CON, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Trauma, Understanding partners, Vegan Chilton, Will Graham Has Encephalitis, Will Graham Has a Nice Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimiumcaelo/pseuds/nimiumcaelo
Summary: PART THREE OF FIVE YEARS LATER----------------WILL GRAHAM and FREDERICK CHILTON have somehow carved a life out for themselves, five years after The Fall.But how does Will cope with what happened to him?
Relationships: Dr. Frederick Chilton/Will Graham
Series: Five Years Later [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936519
Comments: 29
Kudos: 39





	1. gemini

A week after kissing Will on the porch, Frederick woke to his alarm. He slid out of bed, into his chair, and shoved his feet into his slippers. They made him feel like a grandpa but it was cold and his circulation wasn’t what it used to be.

He let Coco out into the backyard for a minute then made himself some coffee. His phone buzzed just as he poured the oat milk onto his cereal.

_> > Are you free tonight?_

It was Will. 

_After coming inside the house, the two became rather shy. Frederick turned the coffee on and found himself reluctant to meet Will’s gaze._

_There were so many questions still unanswered._

Frederick tapped out a reply.   
_< < My last appointment ends at 5_  
_< < What did you have in mind?_

He watched the mostly-bare trees outside his window. It was nearly December. He still had to buy his mother a Christmas gift.

_They both spoke at the same time._  
_“Will, I—“_  
_“You don’t—sorry. You first,” Will said._  
_Frederick fiddled with his hands. “Are you sure you’re not lying to me?”_

Frederick cleaned up his dishes and gave Coco a pet on the head.  
“You’re such a good girl,” he cooed. “You are the best girl in the whole world, did you know that? Yes, you’re the best girl ever.”  
Coco replied by licking a soggy stripe up Frederick’s wrist.  
“Eugh,” he said. “Thanks.”

He wiped his hand on his pants and went back into his bedroom to get dressed. As he tugged a pair of dark brown slacks on, his phone buzzed again.

_“Yes. But I know you probably have a hard time believing me.”_  
_Something seemed different in Will. His eyes held the same raw quality that they had when Frederick had caught him in the bathroom at Doctor Bloom’s wedding. He seemed alive._

Frederick checked his phone.

_> > Can I take you out for dinner?_  
_> > Nothing fancy_

Frederick felt a smile grow on his face. 

_< < Sure_  
_< < You can pick me up at 7_

_“Are you going to do it again?” Frederick asked._  
_“No,” Will responded immediately. “Never.”_  
_Frederick sighed, then asked, “How do you know?”_

Frederick grabbed a container of some stir fry he had meal prepped last Sunday and headed out to his car. It snowed for the first time last night and there was a faint dusting of frost on the grass that would fade by noon.

His secretary, Davis, smiled at him as he entered the office. She was a fat woman of about thirty who was about as goth as business attire would allow. Frederick had hired her almost immediately after opening his own practice. She was, frankly, the best secretary he’d had.

“Good morning,” she greeted. “Freddie Lounds called again. I told her you were booked straight through the weekend.”

Frederick smiled. “Good work.”

She nodded. “Your lawyer called, too. He said he had something about the hospital? I took down some notes, if you want to see them.”

_“Because I’m not Hannibal,” Will insisted. He made an aborted gesture towards Frederick. “And because I’m not going to ruin any more relationships thinking that I’m him.”_

“Good! Good,” Frederick said, taking the sheet of notepaper from Davis. “I’ve been waiting to hear from him. Thank you.”

“Of course,” she said.

Frederick made his way down the hall into his office and unpacked his briefcase. Chewing on his lip, he flipped open his laptop. 

His first appointment of the day went smoothly, as usual. His patient was slipping back a little, but progress was made in their ability to identify certain triggers.

_Frederick avoided answering by pouring the mugs of coffee. He was tempted to believe Will. It would certainly explain a lot of things._  
_He handed Will a cup, their fingers brushing on the warm ceramic._  
_“Are you sure I’m not just a rebound?” He asked drily._

When his office was empty once more, Frederick dialed the number of his lawyer. He drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited for the man to pick up.

“Mason and Wood law offices. This is Allison. How may I help you?”  
Frederick plastered on a smile. “Hello, I would like to speak with Mr. Wood, thank you. This is Doctor Chilton.”  
“Alright, sir. I’ll put you through in a moment. Please hold.”  
Frederick held the receiver a bit away from his head as the dull music looped.

_“I’m not sure you can be a rebound if the previous relationship ended years ago.”_  
_“Did it?” Frederick challenged._  
_“You’re not a rebound, Frederick.”_  
_“Then what am I?”_

Finally, his lawyer picked up.  
“Doctor Chilton!” Wood answered, voice as simpering as ever. “Hello! How are you? I phoned your office earlier but I only got your secretary.”  
“Yes, I heard.” Frederick ran his fingers along the page of notes. “Tell me about the case.”  
“Well, they’re offering hush money, but we knew about that. I’m trying to set a court date. I just need to hear from my expert when he can show. I heard from your insurance company and they’re on your side, of course. They want to know if there were any witnesses. I think you mentioned a friend?”  
“Yes, I had a friend with me.”  
“Well, they might want to talk to him, just to get everything above-board. You know how they are. Pinching every penny.”  
“Mm.”  
“Talk to your buddy. Ask him if he’s willing. It’ll make everything a lot quicker. If he agrees, send me some information.”  
“Sure, sure. Let me know when you have the date.”  
“You got it, Doctor C.”  
Frederick cringed as he hung up the phone. Wood’s only redeeming quality was his skill as a lawyer. His personality grated like sandy swim trunks on your inner thighs.

_Will gave him a little smile. “You’re very many things. You’re a friend. You’re someone that I trust. And… well. I don’t know. You’re beautiful to me.”_  
_Frederick swallowed. He became acutely aware of every scar, every discoloration, every tight bit of skin that didn’t really fit right._  
_“What do you mean?”_  
_“I think you know what I mean,” Will said, and then the room was electric._

Frederick’s next appointment was a little slow. The patient seemed reluctant to talk about anything, so Frederick pulled out some standard questions and talked to her about her sister and the football game. He had never really followed sports, but this particular patient always brought it up so he made sure to catch the scores before their appointment.

He microwaved his lunch in the little kitchenette in the waiting room. Davis came in for a moment to refill her coffee mug.

“By the way,” she said. “You might want to leave your wiper blades up tonight. I heard it’s going to frost again and we might get rain.”  
“Hmm, good point. Thank you.”  
She smiled and went back to her desk.

Frederick took his lunch out and went back to his office to eat.

_Was this real? Was this really happening? Frederick almost felt like he was watching a movie as Will set his coffee cup aside._  
_Frederick had never been very good at actual flirtation. He had always ended up awkward and overbearing. But, something about Will and something about the look in his eyes made it a little easier._

Picking at the stir fry, Frederick scrolled for a while on Twitter. He only really followed a few acquaintances and colleagues, but there was always some new bit of gossip to learn. Janet would be proud of him, he thought. 

_“Do you want to move to the sitting room?” He offered cautiously._

A few minutes before his next patient was set to come in, Frederick snapped his container shut and put it away. He dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief and straightened his jacket. 

_Will’s hands were in his hair, on his waist. He could feel Will’s stubble on his lips._  
_Frederick’s whole being was alight, burning with a soft fire. Everything was slowed down as Will’s calloused fingers dragged across his skin._  
_Will pressed closer, guiding them horizontal. His sweater was soft under Frederick’s touch._

Frederick smiled as the patient entered the room.  
“And how are you today, John?” he asked.

Several more hours passed and it was finally time for Frederick to leave. He wrote some notes for himself and packed everything away. As he left the building, he waved to Davis and told her to have a good weekend.

As he drove home, a light drizzle started. Davis was right. He hoped Will was taking him somewhere with a roof.

_The lights were dim in the sitting room._  
_“Frederick,” Will murmured, pressing a kiss to Frederick’s cheek._  
_“What?”_  
_“I love you.”_  
_Frederick had never seen eyes more blue._

Frederick pulled into his driveway and got out of the car. His gloves got a weird mixture of gravel and mud on them as he wheeled to his front door.

Coco rushed up to greet him and then ran out into the front yard to relieve herself. Frederick wondered what he should wear that evening. Will had said it was nothing fancy. Perhaps he’d just try the easy jeans and a nice top option.

He had to talk to Will about the hospital case and ask him if he would say a few words. He would most likely agree, since he'd already been in court multiple times. 

“Coco!” He whistled for her. “Come in, girl!”

Coco ambled back inside, tracking muddy footprints on his hardwood floor. He’d have to get out the Swiffer later.

_Frederick ran his fingers through Will’s soft curls, then slid his other hand down Will’s hip. As his hand crept towards the front of Will’s crotch, Will stiffened noticeably._  
_“I’m sorry,” Frederick said, pulling his hand back. “I didn’t mean to—“_  
_Will leaned back and off of Frederick. “It’s fine. I should really be going, anyway.”_  
_Frederick caught his arm. “Are you alright?”_  
_Will smiled at him, almost embarrassed. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll see you later.”_  
_Frederick returned the smile. “Okay. Goodnight, Will.”_  
_“Goodnight.” Will kissed him again._

Frederick spent an embarrassing amount of time in front of the mirror, debating between two shirts. He finally decided on the burnt orange one, thinking it the more seasonal choice. He fiddled with his hair for several more minutes, then went to the kitchen to wait.

Will knocked on his door at seven o’clock sharp.


	2. transition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hot dogs and small talk and trauma <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: sexual trauma thoughts also cannibalism mention but this is hannibal so u probably expected that

_Everything was perfect. He couldn’t even feel his own racing heartbeat._

_The crusted sweetbreads came from a woman with golden blonde hair and quite a talent for poker. She had beaten Hannibal the night before. He was getting sloppy._

_“I’ll be out tonight for some time,” Hannibal mentioned offhandedly. “You needn’t wait up.”_   
_Feeling like a detested wife, Will asked, “Where will you be?”_   
_Hannibal only smiled around the meat._

_Another one so soon?_

_“You should stay a little longer,” Will pressed, leaning forward. The tips of his fingers danced across the tabletop. “I can make it quick.”_

_This has been their game of poker for the past year. When will Will Graham admit how desperately he craves Hannibal?_

_A bite. “I worry about you, Will. It is not good to ingest so much so frequently.” Chewing._

_With concentration, Will dilated his pupils. “Would you deny me?”_

_The problem with Bedelia was that she ended up becoming Hannibal. Her armor was thick, but there’s always a chink. She didn’t pull the red cloth up quick enough and was gored._

_Hannibal moved his hand to lay atop Will’s. “Never.”_

_The feathered lure skipped over the water._

_Gotcha._

  
Will smiled as Frederick opened the door. Frederick’s hair had obviously been gelled but had fallen a little out of place, with one or two strands draped over his forehead. Will felt his palms sweat as he remembered what happened the last time he appeared on Frederick’s porch.

“You look nice,” he said, and meant it.  
Frederick raised his eyebrows. “Thanks. How are we doing this? Are we driving? I can grab my umbrella.”  
Will reeled a little, head still in the clouds. “Yeah, but we’re only driving to the docks. You might want to bring it.”  
Frederick nodded, then ducked inside. He reemerged with a sleek black umbrella and a metal and plastic clamp about a foot long that he stuck on the back of his chair.  
“Shall we?” Frederick asked with a wave of his hand.  
Will smiled again. “After you.”

As Frederick drove them to their destination, Will tried to keep himself in the present. It was raining. The date was… what? November 28th? No. Late in November, sometime. Frederick was talking about something with a lawyer. Will agreed to talk to someone… maybe?

He looked over at Frederick. “Gypsy” by Fleetwood Mac was playing softly on the radio.

He saw Frederick’s dark hair, greying a little at the temples. He saw his light brown, mottled skin, still rough through the makeup. He saw his watery green eyes when Frederick glanced at him.

“Are you alright?” Frederick asked. He was so different from Hannibal.  
“Yeah. I’m just… you look nice.”  
“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.” He pulled the car into a parking spot. “Alright, where are we headed?”

Frederick’s matter-of-fact tone and slight frown spurred something in Will. He felt safe. He felt like himself. 

He smiled. “Just down this way. I had them make something special for you.”

  
_Complete trust. If Hannibal were to be vulnerable, he was too._

_Every bite, every swallow the same. Every injection identical. They were to be one flesh._

_Will watched the eyes across from him become dilated and slightly glassy. Their brown color was reminiscent of old trees and the firm, unwavering gaze they held suggested the oldest, strongest of them._

_Hannibal reached out towards him._

_“Make it quick, then,” he said._

_Will smiled, eyes flashing grey in the low light. “I will.”_

_His axe was raised to strike._

  
He walked with Frederick down the sidewalk until they came to a blue-and-white striped awning.

“Hot dogs?” Frederick asked.  
Will walked in first, holding the door open for Frederick to come through. “Yeah.”  
“I trust I don’t have to state the obvious.”  
Will fiddled with his shirt cuffs. “I, uh, stopped by here earlier. They have some vegan ones made specially for you.”  
Frederick blinked, then smiled for the first time that evening.

They ate their hot dogs on the docks, despite the rain. The cold wind made the waves skip and froth against the wooden dock posts. Will had to keep a steady grip on his umbrella so it wouldn’t float away.

“How has work been?” Frederick asked.  
Will shrugged. “Good. It’s nice to be busy again. It’s also nice to have that steady income.”  
Frederick chuckled. “Yeah.”

They spent the rest of the evening in intermittent silence, broken only by short bouts of small talk. Somehow, it was much harder to talk to Frederick now that Will wanted to watch the way his lips formed the words. There was probably some psychological reason for that. Frederick would probably know.

But, it didn’t really matter. The evening was pleasant, if quiet. Will watched a seagull peck the bits of hot dog bun off the sidewalk beneath their feet. It was simple. It was nice.

Frederick smiled at him again as they got back into the car.

“That was a good hot dog,” he said.  
“Glad you liked it.”

When they pulled into Frederick’s driveway, the man paused, hands fidgeting on the wheel.  
“Do you want to come inside for a drink?” He asked.  
Will felt his palms sweat.

  
_Sandalwood and lemongrass._   
_His hands tugging open Hannibal’s fly._   
_The gooey slickness of it._   
_Petals, or what felt like petals, under his fingertips._   
_His knee popped as he assumed the position._

  
A nervous air had crept into Frederick’s expression.   
“No pressure,” he added.  
Will tipped forward, just a little. He caught a whiff of that dumb, expensive cologne Frederick wore. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but it really was worth the money.   
He closed the gap and they kissed once, twice.   
“Is that a yes?” Frederick murmured.  
Will shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t.”  
Frederick smiled drily. “First date and all.”  
“Something like that,” Will replied.  
“Okay. Well, thanks for dinner. It was cute. I haven’t done something like that in ages.”  
Will smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Goodnight.”  
“Goodnight, Will.”

As Will drove himself back to the motel, he bit his lip hard. 

What would have happened had he taken Frederick up on his offer? Would they have gone inside, meeting eyes over the rims of their glasses? Would one of them have said something, possibly innocuous, possibly wildly flirtatious? Would the other one laugh and bounce something even better back? Would they have eventually set their glasses down and moved to the living room? Would they have kissed and grabbed at each other on the couch? Would they have gone farther than they had the other night? Would Will have seen inside those incredibly flattering brown slacks?

He took a deep breath and forced himself to concentrate on the road. When he got back to the motel, he hopped straight in the shower, blood racing. His hand never made it to himself, though. The more he thought about it, the more his stomach churned. He twitched under the hot water that coursed down his back. He wanted Frederick— _God_ , he wanted him. But he didn’t want to be touched.


	3. exhale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> therapy is lit kids

“How have you been, Will?”

Doctor Bloom, radiant in a flowing white blouse, sat behind her desk with a kind smile on her face. A new picture of her son was sitting behind her on the bookshelf. Will kept his eyes fixed on the little boy’s smile as he considered.

“Better,” he said, after a moment. “Physically. Getting better every day.”  
“What about mentally?”  
Will chuckled.  
“According to my notes,” Alana said, “the last time you were here we discussed you wanting to take some agency in your life. Do you remember that?”  
“Yeah.”  
Alana uncapped a pen and handed it to Will along with a blank sheet of paper. “I want you to try something for me.”  
“I’m not drawing a fucking clock again,” Will huffed.  
“I don’t want you to draw a clock. I want you to write down what you did this week. Big things. Little things. Anything you did that you can remember.”

Will frowned down at the blank page. It was the fourth of December. What had he done in the past week? The only thing he could remember clearly was the date and an afternoon he’d spent with Walter tossing a frisbee around. Each day bled together into a muddy amalgamation of faces and words.

He jotted down a few items.  
_Went on a date._  
_Spent afternoon with Walter._  
_Worked._

Alana took the page back from him and looked it over.  
“Good. This is good,” she said. “But, I want you to think about something. Did you eat dinner every night?”  
Will frowned. “Yes.”  
“What did you eat last night? Do you remember?”  
“Um… I had soup.”  
“What kind?”  
“Um… it was a… cream of mushroom. Why?”  
“Because I want you to notice something, Will.” Alana leaned back and crossed an ankle over her knee. “You’re having difficulty staying in the present. You tell me it’s hard to remember what day it is. And then I see that you don’t take notice of the little, everyday things. Did you brush your teeth this morning?”  
“I—yes. I always brush my teeth in the morning.”  
“What color is your toothbrush?”  
Will blinked. “I… I think it’s green?”  
Alana smiled. “You see? There’s a lot of things going on in your life. There are a million little details to notice as you go through your day. I know you didn’t like those mindfulness exercises, and I get that. They aren’t for everyone. But I think if you try and pause during those everyday, routine things that you do and notice one new thing, then you might have an easier time staying in the present.”  
Will fiddled with his fingers. “There’s just… there’s so much happening.”  
“What do you mean?”  
Will sighed. “I don’t know. Everything. The world is shit. My life is shit. I don’t even have my dogs right now. I’m looking at a new apartment but the paperwork hasn’t gone through yet. I just… what does it matter that my toothbrush is green? It doesn’t change the fact that the only exciting thing in my week is the day or two that I get to spend with Walter—and the kid doesn’t even know what to say to me half the time. I just… I don’t really want to notice everything.”  
Alana smoothed her hands over her pant leg. “It’s easy to feel discouraged right now. I know I struggle with it. But, there are options. And maybe you need something to supplement your therapy. Would you be interested in exploring some medications?”  
Will fidgeted. He had always been uncomfortable with the idea of psychiatric drugs.   
“What—uh—what all would they do?” He asked.  
“Well, the most commonly prescribed type is called an SSRI. It blocks the absorption of serotonin in the brain which helps your brain send and receive messages. Usually, this means you’re happier in general and your mood is more stable. Common side effects are nausea, sexual dysfunction, constipation, and low blood sugar.”  
Will swallowed. “Would it, uh… Do they change the way you think?”  
“No. They only help you keep your moods regulated. My own psychiatrist started me on some a couple years ago and, frankly, I find that I think clearer now than I did before. I have less anxiety and it’s easier for me to concentrate.”  
Will considered, his stomach in knots.   
“It’s your decision,” Alana added. “I’m not going to pressure you. There are ways to make this work without taking medication. That said, I definitely think you would qualify.”  
Will wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. What was one more prescription, anyway?  
“Okay,” he said. “I, uh, I think I might want to try it.”  
Alana smiled. “Okay. I’ll write you up something. Now, you mentioned you had a date?”  
Will felt his face grow pink. “Yeah. That was last, uh, last Friday.”  
“How did that go?”  
“Um… I think it went well? We didn’t really decide on whether we would meet again, though, so I don’t really know. I had a good time and I thought he did, too. But… I don’t know. There’s always the question.”  
Alana smiled. “You know what I’m going to say, right?”  
Will chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. I should talk to him. I know. It’s just… I don't know. I don’t want him to lie to me.”  
“Do you think he will? Does he have the motivation?”  
Will struggled for words. “Maybe?”  
“Well, I think if you can’t find a clear reason why he would lie to you about something like that, then you should probably believe him. Most people tell the truth most of the time. And if he is who I think he is, I’m pretty sure you can trust his answer on this. He doesn’t seem the type to string you along.”  
Will smiled, fiddling with his cuffs. 

On his way home, he got a call. He fumbled to answer it while driving.  
“Hello?”  
“Hello, Mr. Graham.”  
Will grit his teeth. “Hi, Freddie. Finally bothered to call me yourself, huh, instead of asking all my friends about me?”  
“Yes, well, that information only goes so far. Look, I, uh… I need a small favor—“  
And just like that, enough was enough.   
“No,” he said.  
“You haven’t even heard me yet—“  
“No.”  
“You can’t be serious, I mean—“  
“No, I’m very serious. I’m sick of it. I’m done. I swear to God, if you call up one more person asking about me, I’m filing a restraining order.”  
Freddie huffed. “I’m only doing my job, Mr. Graham, you have to understand that. You really aren’t as special as you seem to believe.”“I don’t give a rat’s ass why you’re doing it. I want you to stop. So, stop.”  
“I can’t just give up this story—“  
“Yes, you can. Do it.”  
_Beep._

Will let out a deep breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. It felt good to hang up on Freddie Lounds. God knows Will had wanted to many times before. She had overstepped so, _so_ many boundaries and he was sick and tired of it. He’d been stuck before, and had needed to use her—but he wasn’t stuck anymore. He was his own man. He didn’t have to do jack squat for Crawford and he sure as hell didn’t need to use Freddie fucking Lounds to do it. 

So, he could just hang up.

The sun broke through a cloud and he flipped his visor down. He was going to call up Frederick that night and ask about meeting again. A pleasant warmth spread through his chest thinking about seeing him. He hadn’t romanced someone in ages. He was probably rusty, but he didn’t care. It felt so good to just chat and smile and kiss. 

A smile spread across his face. Look at him, now! Setting boundaries and in a relationship—gee whiz. He really should talk to Alana about possibly starting medication. He was finally starting to get happy again and he didn’t want to lose that.

His car whizzing down the highway, Will Graham felt about a hundred pounds lighter. Life was shit, sure. His living situation was a mess and his family life was a mess and he probably had a lot of dirty laundry waiting for him at home. But, there was the sunshine heating up the salty winter asphalt and there was him, still trucking on, after all these years. No, it wasn’t easy. No, he wasn’t happy most of the time. But he was managing. He was making it. Damn it—he was still alive and there was hope for him, after all.

He won, in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hi yeah i actually had a question for later in the series: were you guys wanting a sex scene or not? i can do one i just didn't know if that was what u were lookin for. also if so--hmu on tumblr (@nimiumcaelo) with some anons telling me what you guys think is hot about either character so i can perfect the vibe for it ^^


	4. being known

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another date with lotsa cute stuff to keep u guys happy n healthy <3

Frederick shut the front door and immediately was bombarded by Coco and her cold tongue.  
“Down, girl,” he chuckled, trying to sound stern but failing. “Get down.”  
He scratched behind her ears. 

That evening had gone much better than he’d feared. Some part of him was still worried that Will was faking it. But, there was a distinct difference in Will’s behavior now from his behavior then. He wasn’t as bold; he was more sincere. He seemed more like the quiet, sarcastic man whom Frederick had been introduced to nearly a decade ago.

The change had excited Frederick and he’d been bold enough to invite Will inside for a drink and, perhaps, more. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed that Will had declined. Frankly, he’d wanted to get in that man’s pants nearly as long as he’d known him. He was glad they were taking it slow, though. There were still a lot of things to figure out. 

He remembered lying underneath Will on the couch, staring into those blue eyes, and hearing Will say, “ _I love you_.”

Did Frederick love him back?

Obviously, the argument could be made that he loved him in an altruistic, care-for-all-humanity way; but that posed several problems, including, not least of which, the fact that he didn’t actually possess such an altruistic love for mankind. Did he love him as a friend? He wasn’t really used to telling friends that he loved them. He may have done so decades ago, when he was fresh-faced and ready to commit to things like greater goods and if-we’re-not-married-by-thirty agreements (he’d actually agreed to those with two separate people, both of which had found someone almost immediately after). But now? It had been ages since anyone besides his mother had even mentioned the topic of love to him. He knew, if pressed, his sister would, but he wasn’t going to sink to begging for it.

That whole week, he found himself sitting tense, jaw clenched and shoulders bunched, wishing for the days when all he cared about was graduating medical school, and the days before that when all he wanted was to learn to nosegrind. 

Oh, how had he ended up here?

Finally, on the fourth of December at about quarter past seven p.m., his phone rang. 

“Hello?”  
“Hi, Fred.” _Will._  
Despite his worries, Frederick felt a smile steal onto his face. “And how are you this evening?”  
“Good, I’m good. I, uh, I actually wanted to ask you something.”  
“Oh?”  
“Yeah. I was wondering if you, uh, if you were doing anything tomorrow night? I realized we hadn’t actually said if we were going to meet again and I had a really great time and I kinda wanted to see you again? If that’s okay?”  
Frederick grinned into the empty room. He wanted another date! “I’d love to. What were you thinking?”  
“Uh, well.” Will chuckled. “I know it sounds lame and cliche, but I kinda wanted to catch a movie? I checked it out and they’re doing some showings of old Christmas classics at a theater near you. They’re actually playing _White Christmas_ this weekend. I didn’t know if you would be interested, uh, but I just thought it would be—be cute. You know. Um. Yeah. But, if you had something else in mind, that would be fine, too.”  
“What, and give up seeing Danny Kaye? Fat chance. He was one of my first celebrity crushes, if you can believe.”  
Will laughed on the other end of the line. “Alright, then. Well, it’s tomorrow night at eight. We could grab dinner or something beforehand, too, if you wanted.”  
“I’d love to. See you then.”  
“Alright. See you then. Bye.”  
_Beep._

The next evening, Frederick met Will at a little restaurant that served a mean non-dairy pizza. They spent dinner laughing and stealing smiling glances at the other. Frederick felt like he had swallowed helium. 

Soon, he found himself sitting beside Will in a dark theater, hand twitching with how much he wanted to reach out. 

He’d always loved the music of _White Christmas_ , like any sane person, but there was something about the story that hit him differently this time he watched it. He saw the bungling efforts of Phil and Judy; he saw the flame of righteous indignation in Betty’s eyes, how she simply _had_ to hate him; he saw the pleading reunion between her and Bob. 

His gaze turned left as he studied Will’s profile. It had stung, what Will had done. It always hurt to be lied to. 

But…

Something in him shifted then, though it had probably been moved for some time. He realized that he forgave Will. He didn't hold Will’s actions against him. He just… he couldn’t, anymore. 

And just like that, he felt an indescribable urge to touch Will. 

He flipped his hand over, offering.

Will flashed him a smile and placed his hand in Frederick’s own, running his thumb over Frederick’s knuckles.

Will bent close, then, his mouth nearly brushing against Frederick’s ear. Frederick suppressed a shiver.  
“She was kind of an idiot for judging him so quickly off something that wasn’t even true,” Will whispered.

“She didn’t know,” Frederick replied, leaning closer. And then, looking Will in the eye, “It wasn’t her fault.”

He didn’t know what to call it, but something between them relaxed. Will smiled at him and they weren’t just two people on a date, anymore: they were Will and Frederick and they were _together_ and Frederick would give anything to stay in this moment forever. 

(He realized he had been wrong when, after a beat, Will leaned over and kissed Frederick sweetly in the dark.)

“I finally found an apartment,” Will said as they walked out into the parking lot. “I’m moving in on Sunday.”  
Frederick smiled. “Congratulations. Does it allow dogs?”  
Will shot him a conspiratorial glance. “It certainly does. It has a very gracious pets policy.”  
Frederick laughed. “I don’t know why I even asked. Well, that’s great. Is it near Quantico?”  
“Yeah, it’s actually only ten minutes from the Academy.”  
“Wow. That’s great.”  
“Yeah. Um… I don’t know if you wanted, but you could, uh… You could come over Sunday, if you wanted. Housewarming type of thing?”   
Frederick looked up to see Will’s pale face flushed pink from the cold. “Of course! What time? I’d love to.”  
“Oh, how about noon? That work?”  
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Frederick smiled as they arrived at his car. “I guess I’ll see you then?”  
Will nodded, then dipped down to kiss Frederick. “I guess you will. Goodnight.”  
“Goodnight, Will,” Frederick said.

He realized as he pulled into his driveway that he’d been driving in silence the whole time, a wide smile on his face. 


	5. bread, oil, and honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> will moves in to his new apt

_It was seven months and three days since he'd gotten back from Cuba._

_They had just finished dinner and sent Walter out to a Boy Scout meeting. The house was theirs; they were all alone._

_Molly gave him an impish grin and suddenly they were in the bedroom._

_Will wrapped his arms around her back as she ground down on him. His heart pounded in his ears._

_She kissed him and ran her arms down his sides to his groin. She unbuttoned his pants and stuck her hand in to grasp him._

_Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. His limbs went stiff, immobile, numb._

_Molly’s hands stilled. “Will, are you okay?”_   
_His face on fire, he shook his head._   
_“Do you want to stop?”_   
_“Please.”_

Will woke up tangled in sweaty sheets, heart racing. Staring up at the ceiling, he took several deep breaths. 

He was okay. He was alone. Nobody was touching him.

He spent the morning gathering his things, checking out, and by 10am, he was at the apartment with his brand new key. Molly arrived with Walter and the rest of Will’s things a few minutes later.

“Hey, bud, how are you doing?” Will greeted Walter with a hand on his shoulder. “How’d that exam go?”  
Walter shrugged. “Alright. I got a ninety-two.”  
Will beamed. “Atta boy! I told you you had it in the bag.”  
Molly stepped out of the car and smiled at Will. “How’ve you been?”  
She was too close. Will took a step or two backwards, trying not to look as rushed as he felt.  
“Um… Fine. Yeah,” he said, palms sweating. “Work’s been—been good.”  
Molly’s smile faltered a little. “How’s the head?”  
“Better, definitely. The steroids have helped a lot. Thanks again for coming by.”  
“Of course, Will. Now, let’s get this crap inside.”

As they were carrying boxes, Will tried to calm himself down. It was just a dream. It wasn’t Molly’s fault; she had never forced him to do anything. This was probably all just a reaction to the other night with Frederick. He hadn’t been touched like that in a long time. It was probably just a gut thing. Deep breath. In… out… He wasn’t scared of Molly. He trusted Molly. Why did it have to matter that she’d seen him—all of him? It shouldn’t. It did. She would never force him to do anything; she wasn’t like that. But she’d wanted it from him. Did she still want it? Will felt suddenly over-conscious of his body, his movements. Was he tempting her? Was she going to want it later? Did she want it now? 

Will’s hands shook badly as he went to grab the final box out of the trunk. Thankfully, nobody noticed.

“Well, I think that’s it,” Molly said, standing with her hands on her hips in the doorway. “I didn’t bring any champagne but we could always toast with coffee.”  
Will chuckled. “Sure, why not? Why don’t you two go ahead. I think there’s a Starbucks a couple streets over.”  
“You don’t want to come?”  
“No, I—I told a friend he could come over. Don’t want to leave him waiting.”  
Molly smiled. “Okay. We’ll bring you something back.”

Will waited until their car pulled away to head inside and shut the door, shaking hands turning into a full-body shiver. He was fine. This was fine. He trusted Molly. Molly would never do anything like that. She had never meant to. 

Taking a few deep breaths, Will felt his heart rate slow. He tried to remember one of the exercises Alana had taught him. His eyes caught on the brass doorknob, his fingernails, the yellowish loop pile carpet, the stairs leading up to the bedroom, his shoes. His fingers gripped the edge of his shirt, ran over his jeans, touched his face, and the carpet again. He listened to the faint hum of the kitchen light, the rumble of passing cars, and scratched his fingers against the carpet to hear the scrape. Closing his eyes, he smelled the lemon Lysol in the air and the remnants of the expensive aftershave he still had left from when Frederick had bought it for him. Unable to find anything else, he licked the pad of his thumb, tasting the salty sweat still lingering there.

Breathe in… Breathe out…

He was okay.

He was a little surprised at how well that had worked. Of course he knew Alana wouldn’t give him useless exercises, but he had somehow always thought that he was too different for these ordinary methods of treatment to work, that he was somehow too broken to fix.

It was a relief to find he was wrong.

He jumped at the sound of a knock on the door. He scrambled to his feet and opened it, revealing Frederick, who was holding an assortment of items in his lap. Will felt some of his tension drip away seeing the other man’s face.

“Uh, I know this is a little cliché,” Frederick began, “but I brought you some housewarming gifts.” He held up a loaf of bread, a bottle of olive oil, and a jar of honey. His face flushed a little as he continued, “Bread, so you may never know hunger; olive oil, so you may be blessed with health; and honey, so you, uh, may always enjoy the sweetness of life. I know it’s kind of cheesy, but I just thought it might be a nice way to welcome you into your new place, you know. You don’t actually have to use them, if you don’t want. I mean, you can, obviously, but… Anyway.” He smiled. “Thank you for inviting me over.”  
Will felt a little at a loss for words. “Thank you, Fred, really, I—I don’t know what to say. This is very sweet, I… Here, come in, come in.”

The two sat down at the kitchen table. The apartment had been mostly furnished, but Will still had to buy a couple chairs and a couch for it to really feel homey. Will took the gifts from Frederick and placed them on the kitchen counter.

“Where are the dogs?” Frederick asked. “I expected them to leap all over me as soon as I got here.”  
“Molly’s bringing them up tomorrow. She didn’t have room this time around, with all the stuff in the car.”  
“Ah.” Frederick looked around the room. “This is a nice place. I see you brought all your stuff in already. Good. I was going to offer to help you carry, but, uh… Well. Might be more trouble than help.” He chuckled. “Did Molly already stop by, then?”  
Will nodded. “Yeah, she and the kid went out to grab coffee. A sort of apartment christening thing. She should be back soon. Oh… shit. I forgot to ask her to get you something.”  
Frederick shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve already had enough caffeine for the day. If I have a drop more I’ll start levitating.”  
Will laughed. “That might be the only way I could show you the bedroom. Did you see how steep those stairs are? _I’m_ even going to have trouble with those.”  
Frederick peered over Will’s shoulder at the stairs, then fixed Will with a suggestive glance. “I mean, I’m sure we could figure out a way to get me into your bed, Will.”  
Will’s tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth as he forced a laugh. _God_ , he wanted to.  
They were interrupted by Molly opening the front door. “Will? We’re back.”  
Will stood up as Molly walked in, her eyes catching and lingering on Frederick’s back. A slight frown soured her expression. Will felt his heart race.  
“Sorry, I didn’t get anything for your friend,” she said. She smiled as Frederick turned around. “Hi, I’m Molly.” She stuck a hand out. “I was just dropping this off.” She handed Will a cup of coffee, black.  
“Frederick,” Frederick replied. “Walter and I’ve met before.”  
Molly looked over to Walter, who smiled and nodded. “Oh?”  
“Halloween,” Walter explained, sipping his vanilla frapp. “When Will was living there?”  
“Ah, yes.” Molly seemed embarrassed. “Sorry. Busy day.”  
Frederick made a gesture with his hand as if to wave the offense away. “No worries. Nice to formally make your acquaintance.”  
“Yeah,” Molly nodded. She turned and clapped Walter on the shoulder. “Well, bud? Ready to get outta here?”  
Walter nodded. “See you, Will.”  
Will stepped over and gave Walter a quick hug. “See you, bud. And thank you again, Molls, you’re the best.”

After Molly and Walter left, Will sat down beside Frederick again and let out a breath.  
“You seem a little stressed,” Frederick said.  
Will huffed a laugh. “No kidding.”  
“About the move? Or…?”  
Will fiddled with his sleeves. “Yeah, and… I don’t know. I… other things.”  
“Molly?”  
Frederick took Will’s silence as a yes.  
“Have you two been fighting?” He asked.  
“No.”  
“Hm… She’s not going to know anything by seeing me, you know? It’s not… You don’t have to worry about that.”  
Will chewed his lip. “I know.”  
“Hey.” Frederick reached over and took Will’s hand. “You don’t have to answer to her. She doesn’t control your love life anymore.”  
Will shivered. Sometimes it felt like _someone_ was controlling it. He gripped Frederick’s hand harder.  
Frederick licked his lips, then continued, “I know it’s none of my business, but… I can’t help wondering. Did you two ever… Did she, uh… Did she ever hurt you, Will?”  
Will tried to laugh, but it came out more like a sob. Frederick immediately wrapped his arms around him.  
“No,” Will said. “She didn’t, uh… She never hurt me.”  
Frederick nodded, his cheek rubbing against Will’s ear. “That’s good.”  
Will felt himself drawn to elaborate. He wanted someone to know. He wanted _Frederick_ to know.  
“I… she…” He fumbled for words. He took a deep breath, then continued. “She’s not like that. She didn’t… I mean, she _wanted_ to, but—“  
“She wanted to _hurt_ you?” Frederick gasped, incredulity and fury mixing in his tone as he pulled back.   
“No! No, she didn’t. She just…” Will huffed. Why was it so hard to admit? He closed his eyes to avoid Frederick’s gaze. “She wanted to have sex with me.”  
It took Frederick several moments to respond. “I’m afraid I’m not following.”  
Will opened his eyes. He made a noise, about to explain, but… the words died in his throat. How could he tell Frederick? It was one thing to tell Alana, in a therapeutic setting. It was an entirely different beast to tell Frederick, sitting here in his kitchen, on a day that was supposed to be nice, how he had been raped repeatedly, for years, and thus had a couple hangups about sex, even with his then-wife.  
His face got hot. He had to say _something_. He couldn’t just leave the conversation there. And he did _want_ to tell Frederick. It was just…   
“I’m sorry,” Frederick said suddenly, ripping Will from his thoughts. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have pried.”  
Will blinked. When had green become his favorite color?   
“Really?” He choked out.  
Frederick nodded, then pulled Will in for another hug. “You can tell me when you’re ready. Or never. I don’t want to force you into anything. You, of all people, have had enough of that for a lifetime.”  
Will melted into the embrace. It was almost funny how right Frederick was. He wrapped his arms around the other man, savoring the simple touch.  
“I love you,” he said, because he lacked any other words.  
Frederick took a deep breath, chest expanding against Will’s own.  
“I love you too.”  
Will smiled.

Once he’d collected himself, Will pulled back and took a sip of his coffee.  
“I told Freddie Lounds to fuck off the other day. Well, not in those exact words, but something similar.”  
Frederick laughed, his smile lighting up the whole room. “I wish I had your nerve.”  
Will shrugged. “It was just time, you know? I’m sick to death of people just… I don’t know. Using me? I don’t want to be _Will Graham_ , anymore. I just want to be me.”  
Frederick nodded. “Nothing wrong with that.”  
Will smiled. “Yeah. Well, hey, I don’t have any more boxes to carry, but that bookshelf is pretty empty. Would you want to help me get some of those things out?”  
“Sure!” Frederick pushed back from the table. “Where should I start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg sorry it took so long for this chapter. life happens lol


	6. mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fred goes back to boston and ruminates on his body

Frederick sat in the aisle seat of a plane, en route to his mother’s home in Boston. He hadn’t visited her the previous month, partly due to scheduling restrictions and partly due to the craziness in his life these past weeks. It gave him a strange, almost out-of-body feeling to think that the last time he was going to Boston he was introducing Will under the hope of future partnership, soon to feel betrayed and confused by rejection.

He wondered what his mother thought of all that.

He didn’t have to wait long after crossing her threshold to hear her thoughts on the matter. She must have just woken up from her nap.

“Freddy, honey, it’s been ages!” She moaned, fluttering beside him like a seagull looking for crumbs. “I can’t believe you didn’t come last month! What’s so important you can’t reschedule to see your mother? You know I’m all alone up here, wasting away…” She gave a dramatic sigh. “Was it that friend of yours again? I didn’t want to say anything the last time but he had a bad look about him. He’s not one of _those_ friends, is he?” She gave him a wary glance.  
Frederick resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She’d never known subtlety. “Actually, things have cleared up with him. We’re seeing each other.”  
She kept her face mostly neutral. “Oh? Well. Just make sure you’re not a rebound. Here, let me help you with your things. Are you planning on coming up for Christmas? I hope you are. I told Debby that she and her husband could come over and I told her you’d be here, too. She wants to talk to the author, and all that.”  
Frederick’s ego gave an unconscious purr at his mother’s words. He did so love talking about his writing. But would he be able to make Christmas…?  
“I’ll see,” he said, moving into the guest bedroom. “It depends on a couple of things out of my control.”

The two of them went out to an expensive restaurant for dinner and enjoyed very good wine. Frederick, like most people, found it much easier to talk to his mother when he was a little tipsy. Before long, he found himself telling her about the past few weeks. She listened to it all with a much better attitude than he’d expected.

“Well, if you’re satisfied with his apology, then I am too,” she said when he’d finished. “Though, I have to wonder why you’d bother with him again. Men aren’t worth that much chasing, honey.” She swirled her glass and took a sip. “Even your kind of men.”  
Frederick stabbed at some leafy greens on his plate. “Usually, I’d agree.”  
“But?”  
Frederick looked out over the dining room at the beautiful crowd. Somehow, none of the faces caught his eye. “I don’t know,” he said. “He’s just… different. Better. We understand each other on a very specific level that most people can’t reach.”  
His mother raised an ironic brow.  
“Not that kind of level, mother, _Christ_ ,” Frederick huffed. “We’ve just experienced similar things. It’s lent us a sort of similar lens through which we experience the world.”  
“Well, just keep your head on straight. Don't fall in love. It isn’t worth it.”  
Frederick could almost see his father’s image reflected in her eyes as she turned pensive. He couldn’t blame her jadedness, but he wasn’t going to make her same mistakes. He was sure of it.

That evening, as Frederick sat in the shower, he found himself running his fingers along the more puckered and scarred bits of his skin. 

Immediately after returning home from the hospital, when he was still pink and shiny and bent on vengeance, he’d avoided looking at himself except to fuel his anger. His eyes would trace the lumps down his hip and think of ways to ruin Crawford, Bloom, and Graham’s lives. 

Then, when he found his bank account severely depleted and his general mood worse than it had ever been, he avoided looking altogether. He bathed in the dark, turned all his mirrors away until he was clothed, and grew a thick beard to hide his face. He’d shelled out the extra money for better skin grafts just for that purpose. 

Eventually, though, as time wore on, he got tired of the extra work. He was going to have this skin for the rest of his life, damn it, and he’d better well get used to it. So, he’d reacquainted himself with his body, slowly and cautiously. He let himself look at it, studying the wrinkles, the scars, the discolorations. He touched it, too, and not just sexually (though there was plenty of that); he would press his fingers into the scarred dimples on his stomach, feel the smooth tightness of the scarring where the grafts came together, and spent hours running the tips of his fingers over his new lips. After healing the burns, his medical team had reconstructed them for him using some of his own re-grown skin and some new grafts. The result was still ugly, though ended up much more handsome than Mason Verger’s face had. (Frederick suspected the man had tried to use a private team rather than going to the much better trained doctors from Johns Hopkins, but he didn't know for sure.) Plus, after several months of speech therapy, they worked like a dream, leaving him with only the very faintest lisp. 

In his mother’s shower, Frederick ran his fingers over his lips again. He thought about kissing Will and how nervous he’d been that his new mouth wouldn’t be coordinated enough for it. So far, Will hadn’t seemed to mind.

Memories came back to him, fleeting images and phantom pressures from the last time he and Will had been alone. Frederick had tried to slow things down after that afternoon in Will’s kitchen, so they hadn’t even touched each other again, but his imagination could come up with some very pleasant ideas.

Before long, those ideas were washed down the drain with his sandalwood body wash.

It felt good, obviously, to touch himself; but it felt good in a deeper sense than was explained by endorphins. This was _his_ body and he could do what he wanted with it. 

As he toweled off, he remembered something Will had said to him before and got an idea. After dressing, he sat on his bed and called Will’s number.

“Do you still want to get a tattoo?” Frederick asked.  
“Um… maybe. Why?” Will asked.  
“I want one.”  
“Of just anything or did you have something specific in mind?”  
Frederick thought for a moment.  
“I want a phoenix,” he said. “I think it represents me quite well. I also like the dramatic air it carries.”  
He could hear Will’s smile. “I think that would be very fitting.”  
“Right? I don’t know, I just… This might sound corny but I wanted something permanent on my body to be _my_ choice, you know? Not someone else’s.”  
“I don’t think that’s corny at all, Fred. I think you should go for it.”  
Frederick nodded into the empty room. “Maybe after our court date.”  
“Our what?”  
“The court date? For that doctor’s visit? I told you about it a while ago.”  
There was a small pause, then Will said, “Oh, oh—right. Yes. The, uh, the doctor thing. Yeah. Sorry, I forgot.”  
“No problem. It’s on Tuesday at two p.m., remember?”  
“Yep, yep. I remember now. I’ll be there.”  
The two talked for a little bit about their respective days. Will had some funny story to tell about an appalling student paper. Frederick enjoyed hearing him laugh over the line.  
“Anyway, I don’t want to keep you up,” Will said when he’d finished his tale.  
“Yeah, I should probably get to bed. I’m taking my mother shopping tomorrow and she gets up at five-thirty.”  
Will whistled. “Sorry for you. Well, goodnight, then. I love you.”  
Frederick smiled. “I love you too. Goodnight.”  
_Beep._


	7. autonomy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> will gets more comfortable with frederick

Will wasn’t happy about going back to court, but he felt stable enough at this point in his life to not let Hannibal own places anymore. If he could go to therapy again, he could go to court.

Frankly, the entire thing was very boring and lasted about two hours longer than necessary. He and Frederick exited the building, finally, with stiff knees and a raging desire for a change of scenery.

The tattoo parlor several blocks down seemed fitting.

Hannibal had never been very interested in tattooing. He’d felt he could achieve the same effect with a knife. (He was right.)

For a while, Will had been uncomfortable with needles. He felt he almost _had_ to fear them, given his experiences. After some months, though, he realized it wasn’t the needles that frightened him, but the person inserting them. 

A month or so ago, when he’d asked Frederick about getting a tattoo, he hadn’t been entirely serious. It had been one in a string of attempts to gauge how much of a control Frederick had wanted over his life. It was reckless to just offer himself like that, a fleshy living sacrifice, but it was also what came naturally. Will had never been one to overthink, beating around the bush before taking any chances. If he was going to do something, he was going to do it fully.

But, now that he thought about it, he didn’t really want to get a tattoo. He couldn’t think of anything that he wanted and he wasn’t going to just do it to do it. Also, he still had mixed feelings about the permanency of it all. How could he be sure he wouldn’t hate it five years from now? Was he really going to be the same person for the rest of his life?

These questions swam through his mind as he opened the door and held it for Frederick.

The woman sitting behind the desk, ginger and an imposing six feet tall, stood as they came in and greeted them.

“Hi, welcome to Tattoo Charlie’s. How can I help you two gentlemen?”

Frederick spoke with her for about five minutes about his idea, then left with her to talk with one of the artists about his design. Will was asked to remain in the waiting area so as not to crowd the workspace.

After shifting on his feet for a few moments, he sat down on one of the black pleather couches. The coffee table before him had a binder full of flashes and he picked it up to peruse. He was about halfway through it when Frederick came back, looking slightly disappointed but determined nonetheless.

“Well?” Will prompted, standing.  
“He can’t do it today, he’s all booked up—but we came up with a pretty exact sketch of what I want, so I can come in on Saturday and get it started. It’s going to take a few sessions, though, because of the size and detailing, and my skin. Shall we?”

The two exited the shop and headed back up the street towards the courthouse and their cars. 

“I can still come on Saturday, if you want,” Will offered.  
Frederick paused and removed his hand from his wheel to squeeze Will’s. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Will fiddled with his cuffs for a moment. Several vague thoughts that had been floating around in his head and were finally crystallizing into something definite. 

“Hey, Fred?”  
“Yeah?”  
“You’re free the rest of today, right?”  
“Yep. Free as a bird.”  
“Would it be alright if I came over to yours for a while?”  
Frederick chuckled. “Of course.”

Something about what Frederick had told him on the phone the other night had stuck with Will. Something that made him think about bodily autonomy and trusting yourself to make a big decision. A small knot of nerves still lingered in his gut, but his mind was made up.

Once they got to Frederick’s place and once Coco had been let out and greeted, the two found themselves in the living room. Frederick said something funny about the court hearing earlier and Will laughed. 

Sobering slightly, Will wiped his palms on his trousers.   
“So, I wanted to tell you something,” he said, willing himself to ignore his growing nerves. “About me. About—about Hannibal.”  
Frederick’s expression quieted to a soft concern. “Yeah?”  
“Yeah.” Will smiled, an outpouring of nerves. “I want to tell you. I want you to know.”

It took him about half an hour to tell the whole thing, give or take a few details. By the time he’d finished, Frederick’s eyes had grown to saucers and he’d taken Will’s hand between his own.

“I’m so sorry, Will,” Frederick said. “That should never have happened to you.”  
Will smiled weakly, feeling twitchy and sensitive. “Yeah. Thank you for listening. I know it’s not… not nice to hear about.”  
Frederick squeezed his hand. “No, but I’m glad you told me. It helps me understand you better.”  
“Yeah.” Will took a deep breath, feeling more steady. It was good to tell someone. It was good to let someone know who he was, who he’d become since then. “It definitely fills in a few blanks, huh.” 

Will shifted closer to Frederick, then, and kissed him so he didn’t have to look him in the eye. Frederick hummed and put a hand in Will’s hair.

It was slow and sweet and Frederick didn’t push it. Will felt so glad he had told him, then. He felt safe. He felt in control. He felt like he finally didn’t have to pretend.

(Over a year ago, Molly had asked him if he might want to see a therapist about sex.)

He pulled back and pressed his forehead to Frederick’s. “I told you that because I wanted to tell you something else.”  
“Mm. What?”  
“Boundaries, or at least boundaries right now.”  
Frederick opened his eyes and smiled at Will. “Okay.”  
“I think… I think I’m not okay with being touched, sexually, right now. I think that’s too much. But… I think I would be okay with touching you—if you’d want, that is.”  
Frederick’s eyes darkened a little, and then his cheeks followed suit. 

(Perhaps he would.)

“That would definitely be okay with me,” Frederick said.

Will smiled. Like getting back on the horse, a slow blush of old, familiar feelings warmed his body as he leaned forward and captured Frederick’s lips in another kiss. 

Will felt every nerve ignite as he pulled the man against himself. His hands made quick work of Frederick’s shirt and he felt the man’s rough, mottled skin. It was unique. It was personal. It cleared his head of anyone but Frederick.

When they broke apart for air, Will’s eyes glanced over the faded pockets of pink and white scar tissue that littered Frederick’s chest.

“Sorry,” Frederick murmured. “I know it’s—“  
“Shh,” Will cut him off. “I’m glad you’re alive.”  
A smile bloomed on Frederick’s face as Will kissed down his neck.

He caught Frederick’s cologne—hints of tobacco, vanilla, and old leather. It reminded him of men his father would talk with on the docks, smoking and laughing and spitting in the water. It smelled old, it smelled warm, it smelled incredibly attractive.

Will pressed several wet, open-mouthed kisses down Frederick’s sternum to his navel. Frederick swallowed thickly, green eyes more grey than Will had ever seen before.

“Wait a second,” Frederick said.  
Will’s hands paused on his belt buckle. “Okay.”  
“Can you do me a favor?” Frederick bit his lip, looking hopeful yet horribly embarrassed.   
“Sure. Anything.”  
“Can you, uh… can you go over to the record player and put on the B side of _Super Trouper_? I, well.” He scrubbed a hand over his rapidly reddening face. “I’ve always wanted to do something to ‘Lay All Your Love On Me’. It’s kind of a fantasy of mine. Sorry.”  
Will laughed as he stood up. “I love you, you know that?”  
“Shut up.”

Once the opening chords of ‘Lay All Your Love On Me’ started warbling through the speakers, Will settled back down on the couch, mostly atop a very pleased Frederick.

“Better?” He asked.  
Frederick nodded. “Perfect.”

Without any further ado, Will undid Frederick’s belt and unzipped his fly.

Watching Frederick flushed, trembling, and disbelieving, feeling his hands curl into Will’s hair but never tug, listening to the final, euphoric sigh he made ( _Oh_ …) felt like the first time he had consciously, intentionally pleased someone in a long time, perhaps ever. Will kissed Frederick’s stomach after he had finished and flexed his fingers. 

His hands were his own and he was damned if he wasn’t going to use them.


	8. EPILOGUE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> happy little life

Frederick sighed happily as he felt the warm breeze over his skin.

The two of them were off the coast of Annapolis in a little sailboat with a couple of very nice lounge chairs. It was early August and the sun was hot and beautiful.

Frederick turned over onto his stomach, the bright purple and scarlet of the phoenix spread across most of his back nearly glowing in the bright light.

“You really shouldn’t have that out in the sun for too long,” Will said, standing by the tiller in a white bucket hat and cheap sunglasses. “Or the rest of you, for that matter.”  
“I didn’t nearly drown myself in sunscreen before we left for you to tell me not to go in the sun,” Frederick retorted. “Besides, I’ll be fine. I’m putting my shirt back on in five minutes. That amount of time won’t kill me.”  
“Alright, alright. Just watch it.”

Frederick rested his head on his palm as he scrolled through Twitter. After several moments, his eyes went wide and he let out a loud gasp.

“What?”  
He stared up at Will. “Freddie Lounds! She was on Saturday Night Live!”  
Will gawked. “What?”  
“Seriously!” He turned the phone screen towards Will.  
“Huh. Wow. Well, good for her, I guess.”  
Frederick chuckled. “Yeah, good for her. Maybe now she’ll forget about you.”  
“I can only hope.”

Will sat down in the lounge beside Frederick and hugged his sunscreen-slick knees. This was probably one of the most peaceful moments that he could remember. 

Frederick made some comment about dinner later and Will felt a silly rush of affection for the man. Look at them! Here they were, out in the sunshine—alive! The warmth almost made Will giddy. And there was Frederick, beside him. They were together, beautifully, and they would be for a very long time. It didn’t matter that passing boaters stared at them or that he wasn’t as fit as he used to be. He was here on the water with his favorite person in the world and they were open and vulnerable and _safe_.

Will reached over and ran his fingers along Frederick’s back and across the phoenix’s wings. He couldn’t even verbalize how much he wanted to make Frederick’s remaining days happy. So, in lieu of words, he bent down and pressed a kiss to Frederick’s shoulder. Let people stare.

Nobody was ever going to take Will’s happiness away from him again.

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who has read this story from the beginning. I really, really appreciate the comments, support, and time that you have lent this little fic. I might add cut-scenes and little add-ons to this in the future, so if you have anything you really want explained feel free to drop it in the comments, but THAT IS A WRAP.
> 
> Thank you again for reading! It really means a lot <3
> 
> \- M

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr @nimiumcaelo


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